The Holy Tightrope

Your late teens are hanging on a wall

Lowered down to the first five rows

Convinced me to leave her on her own

Every breath like a curtain closed

But I see legs they're up in the air

There's speech writers with all my tongues

The holy throne heirs in the basement

Saddle up me, like I was a pavement

Between scenes there's dealers making calls

Make a living off of perfect flaws

The sweat drips while you dribble down the phone, innocence left clean off the bone

But I see legs they're up in the air

There's speech writers with all your girls

Holy tightrope, shameless catwalk

Saddle up me, like I was a pavement